Eighteen 'till I Die
by innuendogirl
Summary: The tale of a young Cotton in his struggle to survive through a feared pirate's wrath and succeed in freeing his family from an age old curse.
1. Chapter 1

Huge thanks to Miran, for inspiring me to write this story. *muah!*  
  
Cotton isn't often written about, so I don't know if this will be enjoyed or not, It's a bit of a different kind of story, compared to all of the Mary-Sues. This is the tale of Cotton's past and his struggle through life.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or any other things I mention in this tale. I will state that now so I do not have to every time.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Eighteen 'till I Die.  
  
His dark hair hung over his face as he fitted the last piece together. Brushing it out of his face he leaned back and look at his work. His last pistol. He had worked on the weapon for a few months in secret, stealing a few moments whenever he could and it was finally complete. He wrapped it in cloth and shoved it to the bottom of his bag, closing the door behind him.  
  
Soon Dave Cottler would be a real pirate. He would leave his mother and sister tonight to follow the dream that his father had failed to. George had kept the secret only to get himself killed, but Dave wouldn't make the same mistake. He had grown out his hair, shaved his beard, and from tonight on he would be known as Cotton. He had worked for a long time to save up his money, and now at the age of seventeen he was ready to begin his new life. Since his father had died six years ago Dave had been restless. England was no place for him, his mother could get along fine without him, and there was no reason to stay. The injustice done to his family would only continue until he did something about it.  
  
At nightfall he finished packing his things and closed his door silently. He crept into his mothers room, brushing the hair off her aging face he kissed her goodbye. He made one last stop before he left the house. He opened the parlor door, cringing at the squeak it made, and took the sword off the wall. It was his grandfather's sword, his fathers sword, and now it would be his. It was the symbol of his suffering, and as it reflected the moonlight he remembered his grandfather's words.  
  
'Don't live forever, that's wishful thinking, but to stay young, ahh...Eighteen until you die'  
  
He sighed, everlasting youth might have seemed wonderful to his grandfather, but he didn't think about the consequences. When the treasure of youth had been found and claimed by his grandfather his dad had been thirty-two and had remained that way as his mother continued to age. His sister had been eighteen for four years, and next year he would stop aging. What his grandfather hadn't been able to see was the heart break. He hadn't thought of his granddaughter, Dave's sister Katherine, and her despair when she turned down the engagement from the man she loved. The way his parents had looked into each other's eyes the night George had left to break the spell and failed.  
  
Dave was determined to succeed. He left the remains of his money on the parlor mantle, where he had taken the sword his grandfather had used to fight his way to the treasure. He grabbed enough coins to buy him passage on a pirate's ship and headed out the door.  
  
He reached the poor within an hour and migrated towards some suspicious looking men.  
  
"Psst, hey, you!" One of them said "Come over here" Dave followed the sound of the voice to see a young pirate struggling with a carton full of Spanish goblets. "What's your name?"  
  
Dave took a deep breath and prepared himself for the adventure that would surely follow this moment. "It's Cotton, sir."  
  
"Cotton, give me a hand with these." the pirate said.  
  
"Why me?" Cotton said, seeing what information he could get out of the man.  
  
" Look, that ship over there is leaving soon, and I've got to get back on it. Please?"  
  
Cotton saw a glimmer of something in the man's eyes and was filled with understand for the man, Trust? He thought to himself.  
  
"Alright then" He said lifting the other side of the crate "Take me with you."  
  
The man rolled his eyes. "Don't know that captain Roberts will be to happy bout that."  
  
"Bartholomew Roberts? Captain of the Enrolle Velas?" Cotton asked with ferment. " I have three Spanish gold coins to pay, I have my own pistol and sword, and I'm willing to fight."  
  
"Nice to meet you Cotton, I'm Tom." He said with a smile. " Now lets move, wouldn't want to be late an make a bad impression on the captain would you eh?"  
  
The two men moved off into the night, each step farther from Dave's home, and closer to Cotton's future.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Let me know what you think, If I should continue with this story!! 


	2. Chapter 2

Well, I've been thinking about this story for a long time. But I never found the path to get it where I wanted it to go. Creating this story in chemistry class is way more productive than cutting the tips off my hair, or making kitties on my calculator. Anyway, Finally I've got an idea in the right direction so here's a little bit to see if any of you are interested.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Tom and Cotton traveled as quickly as they could to the ship that would soon be departing. Tom made light conversation, telling of his crew members and their adventures. Cotton watched in wonder as Tom kept talking animatedly, as he spoke on about the spectacle he had made of himself at some tavern in Port Trinidad Cotton smiled to himself, Tom was unlike any of the men Cotton had known, he had just met the pirate but he felt-- He awoke from his thoughts realizing Tom had asked him something. "What?" he replied.  
  
"Haha, forget it. I was nervous when I first went on the account too. Don't worry kid, I'll--" he began to say, but was cut off immediately by the sound of a shot piercing a wood crate near the Velas. Their heads turned in unison to the sound. As they increased their speed the gunfire came again followed by the command "Weigh Anchor!" shouted from the Velas.  
  
A shot whizzed past Cotton and he dropped the crate, ducking behind it to retrieve his pistol, he brushed of the barrel, gazing at his work and then quickly returned fire. He saw his opponent fall as he turned to make a run for the ship. Cotton looked over his shoulder at the sound of another shot, Tom, who had dropped the crate the same time as him, was nowhere to be found.  
  
Cotton took a swift look at the Enrolle Velas, the rising sails that would soon be filled with wind, a quick escape from the ambush for all who were onboard and turned back to where he and Tom had dropped the box. Dodging bullets and aimlessly returning fire he soon took cover behind the crate breathing heavily he turned to see that Tom had hardly moved since the fight became. His eyebrows furrowed as he debated the cowardliness of the man next to him, a pirate.  
  
"Tom!--" he said sharply, but his animosity vanished as he saw the man's blood soaked pant leg. Tom looked up at him, hearing his own name.  
  
"Get to the Velas" he said "Before they leave! Tell them you know me. Tell them--" his eyes opened wide in fear as he looked over Cotton's shoulder. Cotton squeezed his eyes shut and cursed himself, realizing to late that the gun fire had stopped. Cotton slowly turned his head over his shoulder to see the grinning face of Dread Morrison. Cotton jerked back as the feared Captain spit in his face, and then his world went black.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ b  
  
This chapter is short, I just wanted to feel things out, see if anyone was reading and if there's any interest! Let me know if continuing would be worth it. 


	3. Chapter 3 revised

This story shall continue! With or without readers but only because I admire Miran and the oh so wonderful wonderful story Legacy.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Cotton sat up slowly, his vision swimming in front of him. He took in his unfamiliar surroundings, his eyes fell to his side where Tom was laying, his face lit by the flickering candle. The memories of the night.... *Before, but how long before?* flooded back into Cotton's mind as he took in his friends dried leg wound. He saw something out of the corner of his eye and turned his head as Dread Morrison spit in his face through the ship's prison bars.  
  
"I know a Cottler when I see one" he said "you look just like your father, and his before him." Cotton glared at Morrison and was rewarded with a swift kick in the ribs. He rolled on the ground in pain as Morrison continued talking. "I got to your father to late, one of my men had already shot him, you can't burn a man alive if he's already dead. Even a proximmortal man." Cotton cringed on the floor, still clutching his stomach. "Don't concern yourself. I'll see to it that you make it to isle el inmorta alive enough. And with the proper coordinates your little friend wont suffer the same fate my boatswain did."  
  
"And what is that." Cotton spat angrily as he pulled himself to his feet.  
  
Morrison smiled at him smugly, nonchalantly toying with a cluster of trinkets around his neck. As Cotton looked closer he saw that the one he was holding was a Human molar. He shot Tom a glance and took a few steps towards the steps "Don't try anything funny" he turned around "Or your friend will be crucified on the mast." He picked up a tooth and examined it closely "beautiful isn't it" dropping it he returned to the deck of the ship leaving Tom observing Cotton through half open eyes.  
  
As soon as Dread Morrison was out of ear shot Tom picked his head up and hissed "You should have left me, look what mess your in now."  
  
"Well, if I'm burned alive all Morrison's got to do is drink my ashes from the sphere, then my family will be free of the curse. How's your leg?" he said, producing a flask of rum.  
  
"Thanks" Tom said, gratefully downing the rum "I have no knowledge 'f what you speak about, but it doesn't seem to me that Morrison sees this as a curse. We've got to do something, can't 'ave you roasted."  
  
"Belay that talk, you heard what Morrison'll do to you. And it is a curse, I've lived it."  
  
"A futile death at that, I'm not fond of being leverage. What is it that Morrison's after?"  
  
"Proximmortal tesoro. To stop aging." 


End file.
